The Fall of Aridhol
by Im No Ichigo
Summary: Aridhol is one of the ten nations making up the Second Covenant, but now the city itself is failing, hardening. The prince of Manetheren Caar Al Toren Al Ban, has been sent to the city. What he finds there is beyond his worst nightmares. R&R I return


Prologue

Critique is gratefully received; I try to return all reviews.

The sun beat harshly down on the two men. Both faces stared dispassionately into the other, no twitch or slight movement betrayed what either was thinking. Caar ignored the bead of sweat trickling down his brow. His shirt clung to him, stained with sweat and blood. A number of small cuts ran across his arms legs and torso, his once white shirt was sliced in several places, most of the blood on him however, belonged to others. His eyes ran across the body of his opponent, his appearance wasn't too dissimilar to Caars own. A shallow gash ran across his cheek, the blood had long since dried on his face. The dark red contrasted sharply against his soft blonde hair.

"Prince, move and you live."

"That I cannot do."

"I thought as much, you wish to fight me for the sake of your covenant? You who have yet to receive the heron."

Caar said nothing. The site of a small child impaled upon a spear was fresh in his mind. He relaxed, conjuring in his mind an image of a flame. Into it he fed the rage and anger he was feeling, forcing his emotions into the imaginary flame. A man who fought with rage died with rage. In several seconds he had achieved the oneness, he was one with himself and his surroundings, he was floating in emptiness, no emotions would guide his hand. He stepped calmly towards Eoein, who raised his eye at Cat Crosses the Courtyard.

"Very well."

Eoein stepped forward, his own Cat Crosses the Courtyard came to meet Caars. Eoein wasted no time in the attack. He twisted his body and Lightning of three Prongs flashed forwards towards Caars neck. Leaf on the Breeze swept up to parry the heron blade. As soon as the metal touched Eoein turned and spun under Caars sword, Lion Springs slid out towards his chest, Caar barely brought up Two Hares Leaping in time to prevent the blade disembowelling him. Eoein slid to the right again, this time Caar moved with him, sliding left and bringing River of Light around in a high arc. The blade was knocked away again and with Rain in High Wind, Eoein slashed him lightly across the chest. The cut would have been deeper had he not stepped back in time. Hummingbird kisses the Honeyrose was countered by Eel among the Lily Pads, as was Leaf on the Breeze and Lizard in the Thornbush. Eoein swayed to the right, Threading the Needle came straight towards Caars chest. He barely parried with Kingfisher Circles the Pond.

Slightly off balance from the attack, Eoein repeated the move twice more in rapid succession, Caar managed to block the first, desperately bringing up Wood Grouse Dances in time. The second grated across his ribs, not deep enough to be life threatening, but deep enough to slow him. Caar began breathing hard, pushing the air forcefully out of his lungs and drawing it in heavily. He dropped his sword point slightly, a normal person might not have noticed the slight drop, but he knew Eoein would. He launched another two Threading the Needles, both times Caar just countered in time with Leopards Caress. Eoein brought River of Light around with a smile of contempt, expecting the blade to slip easily around the slow parry. Caar exploded up in motion, Eoein saw reaping the Barley knock his sword away in a blur. He felt a slight tingle across his chest. He started bringing Stones Falling from the Cliff down in a fast riposte, or at least had meant to. His body wasn't reacting to his orders. Looking down he saw why. Reaping the barley had sliced through the soft skin and muscle of his stomach. He dropped to his knees in shock, the sudden movement opened the slash and his guts slipped out of the hole. His sword dropped beside him, the sun suddenly seemed to dim, the air around him began to cool.

"How?"

Caar didn't think to reply, Eoein was already dead.

"You fought well."

Caar didn't need to turn, he knew the voice well.

"How long?"

"Since the start."

Caar nodded, and then turned towards the exit.

"Stop."

"What?"

"You are forgetting something, that blade belongs to you now."

He turned slowly towards his tutor, shaking his head.

"He wasn't worthy of the heron, I deserve it no more than he."

"That may be, but even so they blade belongs to you."

Caar looked into the dark blue eyes of his tutor, Coulthard Pedrian. Sighing, he stepped back towards the fallen body, retrieving the heron-marked blade.

"You have improved, but I did not come here to watch you fight. Your father wants you now. There is a soldier from Aridhol seeking aid from the King with the Trollocs, he wishes for you to lead our force. Caar nodded slightly,

"Where are the horses?"

"Around the back, our soldiers are taking the roads back as they have the wagons, seeing as we have more urgent business, we're going cross country."

"What of Eoeins men?"

"We have taken some prisoner, those who wished to fight died."

"Casualties?"  
" We lost twelve men. You have your report ready?"

Caar said nothing; he stepped away from Coulthard and started walking towards the exit.

"Come."

Coulthard watched the bloodstained figure moving further and further away from him; he stroked the hilt of his blade, his fingers tracing the heron in the hilt, he whispered softly,

"You have grown cold my prince."

Mordeth gazed up at the walls of Aridhol with contempt. Starting forwards, he made his way through the giant double gates. His staff thumped upon the wood in rhythm with his feet, the edge of his soft white robes trailed across the ground, yet no stain or mark marred the colour.

The two guards lowered their halberds in front of him, blocking his path.

"We apologise for this sir, but…"

With a sneer of contempt, he slammed the base of the staff down hard. Both men reacted instantaneously, raising their halberds and gazing past him down the road he had just walked.

The streets of Aridhol were almost empty, there was just the odd few people passing by. The recent Trolloc raids had taken their toll. Mordeth couldn't miss the unmistakeable red stains marring the cobbled roads. The odd few houses had charred roofs and there was one gaping space full of burnt timber and rubble. He felt the start of a smile tug across his lips, this couldn't be easier.

As he moved towards the centre of the great city, the buildings began growing in size and grandeur. Then, turning another bend his target came into view, the biggest gem of all.

"Home," he muttered as he made his way to the palace.


End file.
